WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN (Growing Up in the 1950's/1960's)

Knowing that my mother was born in 1961 and that she loved fashion when she was a little girl weren’t the only reasons I picked up the Vogue that was collecting dust in the backroom shelves of the basement of the library. Yes, that was most of it. But the other, more fundamentally pathetic reason is that it was the only magazine I could find from that time period. However, much as my lack of interest in women’s fashion pervaded every corner of my mind, I knew I had to push on. For me; for historical preservation; for my grade in this class!

Opening up the issue for July 1961 – the month in which my mother was born – I couldn’t help but notice the striking similarity between this issue of Vogue and the issue I’d picked up from the 1920’s (detailed in my earlier post, “Geometrics and the Buying of Hats”). All black-and-white, with nary a hint of color except for the cover. My English major mind couldn’t help but notice the metaphor for race back then. Everything was very neatly segregated, and the idea of integration – full color – was only just coming to the foreground of the American collective.

I flipped through the articles, languidly, dispassionately, looking without registering. But then I saw something that caught my attention and refused to leave, something that, were it published today, would be seen as ridiculous, ludicrous, outlandish. Something that would be laughed out of publication, something that I couldn’t believe existed, even back in the 1960’s.

A thin woman gazed demurely back at me, her little black slip framing an equally toothpickish frame. On the other page – I double-checked to make sure I hadn’t inhaled some hallucinogenic down in the basement – the words “HOW TO GAIN WEIGHT” screamed up at me with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, or the Kardashians in an anywhere.

How – what – is – why – am I seriously reading this right?

                “’How to raise white peacocks, how to prevent juvenile delinquency, how to learn Coptic. . . . I can find out how to do everything but gain weight,’ complained an attractive but too thin friend who longed to round herself out.” THIS IS THE FIRST SENTENCE OF THE ARTICLE AND I’M NOT JOKING.

                I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from shouting incredulous profanities at the page. It was incredible. I just wanted to shout “EAT! EAT FOOD! EAT ALL THE FOOD AND THEN KEEP TELLING YOUR CHILDREN TO EAT NORMALLY UNLESS YOU WANT TO ROLL THE LITTLE BUTTERBALLS TO SCHOOL!”

                Which, of course, the article went on to mention. “The best medical advice for underweight people is – in the words of the TV commercial – ‘Double your pleasure.’ In other words, double the usual food intake by partaking of all the fattest, richest food the dieter likes best, all the favourites.” Why did they need an article to tell them this? Was nutritive science really that burgeoning of a field?

                I spent about 15 minutes reading the article and about 45 minutes biting my tongue to keep from laughing. I recalled several instances the week prior where I’d seen a woman shoving French fries down her child’s throat at a McDonald’s. Her child was weakly protesting and she just yelled “Shut up and eat your French fries! Oh you’re thirsty? Have a soda!” I can’t hope much for that child’s future. I only wonder if that woman read this article as a girl and took it way too far. I won’t hold my breath though.

                After reading the article, I closed the Vogue and I sat in thought. My mother is still a beautiful woman; not too fat, not too thin. But to know the perception of beauty in a society that touted women at the ideal weight of “not overweight but not underweight either” seems even more rigid than modern standards of “skinny skinny skinny.” It flabbergasted me. I was bamboozled. And most importantly, I was grateful for my mother’s continued sage advice (and stellar cooking) on food – eat when you’re hungry, stop when you’re full, and fresh is always best.

                Walking out of the library it occurred to me that articles like HOW TO GAIN WEIGHT are the kinds of articles that led to the distortion of beauty in American perceptions. I can only hope we move back to a more natural grace, in our actions and in our attractiveness, as soon as possible.